


Ain't no after-dinner mint strong enough

by DeceptiSpoon



Series: Transformers: Extriverse Side-stories [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Arcee is sorta there but I don't know if I should tag her, Betting, Eating, Food, Gross, I dunno what else to tag, M/M, Other, Silly, all you can eat diners couldn't handle them, chatting, chilling out, garbage guts, tagged the ship even though there's only one moment of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 18:41:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20030524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceptiSpoon/pseuds/DeceptiSpoon
Summary: The Ceasefire between Galvatron and Optimus Prime was odd, but then Hot Rod encounters some familiar figures.Can't hurt to hang out right?





	Ain't no after-dinner mint strong enough

Cybertron was in disarray thanks to the Decepticons, but it surprisingly wasn’t the usual.

Galvatron had conceded respect to Optimus once the Hate Plague was over, and shaken his hand, vowing a ceasefire.  
And he followed through with it.

Everyone on Cybertron had geared up for the usual.  
Megatron had called ceasefires before but as soon as the danger/need for it had passed he returned, weapons already coated with the remnants of the front line.

So when a couple of days, had passed with nothing, nothing at all the Autobots were all rather… lost.  
Deception was the name of the game usually with the Decepticons but, nope, here they were… doing what they said they were going to do.

In fact not too long after the ceasefire, Cosmos ran into Blitzwing on Earth, shockingly having gone unnoticed for however long he was there and even more surprisingly he was just sat on a mountain watching a jungle.  
Cosmos had reported he seemed a bit confused, hardly even recognised Cosmos and shrugged. He was told ‘no fighting’ and he apparently hadn’t been in the mood to fight, in fact, he’d gone there to avoid fighting and calm himself instead. Cosmos tried to pry for more information, carefully, but Blitzwing didn’t seem too cooperative and left quickly, disliking the lack of solitude.

They were keeping their side of the bargain.  
Optimus had immediately wanted to push theirs, this report of the normally quite unstable Blitzwing actually following through on a no-fighting ceasefire order and actively trying to keep himself on the straight and narrow prompted Optimus to try and ‘test the borders’ a little.  
He’d wanted to send out an offer of peace.

There had been no actual offer made yet as bots were still hesitant to trust them and the popular vote seemed more to be on preparing defences and rebuilding Cybertron for an ‘inevitable’ attack.

He was still doing it, working on it, and you, you were not.  
Hot Rod hummed, boy it was great not being Prime, no responsibilities, no potential working on a wordy peace treaty, no… visibility… not disappointing anyone… anymore.

He doubted any of the Autobots had probably noticed he’d slunk off-world to go mingle with the other races for a while. Something largely impossible due to the war when an Autobot could’ve been tracked and followed bringing chaos with them when Decepticons arrived to get them, nor was it possible as a Prime, too much attention or Magnus breathing down his back.

Now none of the people around him even gave him much thought.  
It was welcoming, nerve-wracking, familiar and lonely all in one shot.

Trinkets and baubles decorated the stalls interrupted by fruits and slabs of meat before they came back again in a little cycle.  
With a huff and an attempt to look like he was doing something, he picked up something glassy, rolled it around in his hands as if he were interested, then plopped it back down again.

Which was good, else he might’ve dropped it then actually had to pay for it when he turned around for the fright of his life.

It was reflexive and unintentional, after all, he had spent so long being taught to fear the big mishmashed shapes of the Decepticons top brass that their presence elicited it.  
Or maybe it was the uneasy limbo the lack of action had left making his systems jump after all this was surely the moment the war was to kick back up again.  
The Ex-Prime, alone, isolated, far away from help. Easy pickings. If you wanted to start a war, he was ideal, the biggest target to possibly exist.

The high-strung train of thoughts only just slowed down when Hot Rod noticed his internal clock tick away several nano-kliks and nothing happened.

Steadying his air intakes Hot Rod straightened himself up and brushed away some dirt that was apparently there to make his hands look busy.

He’d wandered down to the more high-end part of the market, or at least the end that wasn’t just tables and had more buildings which benefited from maintaining their shape and structure rather than getting moved about by possible patrons and being taken down and set up each day.  
The one he was at was a kind of buffet-style restaurant and had a sign reading ‘all you can eat’ in big letters on the outside as its main selling point.

Somewhere near the windows, at least close enough to be seen was the ever distinct crest of his former-nemesis Galvatron, the distinct ‘crown’ hardly making the rest of his figure necessary to process. Opposite from him, Cyclonus was easy enough to recognise but unlike Galvatron, he seemed to be slumped and at an angle.

Neither of their shapes moved to acknowledge him.

Knowing no fear, or sense, Hot Rod knew this must be a pivotal moment.  
He’ll be the one to get the answers! Or at least maybe bring back some news that Cosmos was unable to.

The door to the buffet made a light jingle as he pushed it out the way, a few patrons looked up at him, more at the noise than him, and one of the staff gave him a rather unimpressed side-eye that already felt like he’d done something wrong.

Ignoring it and a small pang of confusion it gave him, he put on his best nonchalant saunter.  
He was totally innocent and only here by accident, oh my who has he spotted but possibly-friendly faces, what a total coincidence.

Neither of them moved at his approach and Hot Rod fought the urge to add a ‘totally innocent’ whistle to his nonchalant act.

The Matrix had absolutely made him taller.  
He hadn't noticed it before what with being freshly cured of the Hate Plague and a little bit woozy. Now, however, the closer he got the more he remembered how big they were as, even when sat down, Galvatron just kept on feeling taller the closer he got. Hell, he was sitting on an extra-wide seat, the standard restaurant seats being designed for someone smaller than him and Cyclonus was flopped upon a long wall-attached seat that spanned most of the outer edges of the place.  
The last time he really felt this small around them was inside Unicron and a hand unconsciously gave a rub to his throat around where Galvatron had once tried choking him.

He was right next to them now and neither had reacted to him.  
It looked like Cyclonus couldn’t.  
From the state of the table, it seemed they had come here and taken up the place on it’s ‘all you can eat’ offer and from the looks of it, made them regret it. A lot of plates were spread out in front of them and streaks of oil and crumbs further dusted the dishes. One plate had a bite taken out of it, but judging by it being the only one they had either been told off for doing that or didn’t like the taste. Likely the former.  
Cyclonus had seemingly eaten himself into a state of lethargy, him being slumped at an odd angle was actually him leant back, legs spread forwards and optics barely functional. His semi-organic middle was slightly swollen with the telltale signs of way-too-much food, a visual only achievable due to their biological bits.

Galvatron was unmoved by his overfed partner and also unmoved by Hot Rod who wore a light scowl as he performed some mental comparisons and wasn’t too enthralled at the realisation he was crotch-height with his ex-nemesis now.

The light distraction was more than enough for Hot Rod to completely forget any prior nerves at confronting these two, alone, and he grabbed a chair, scraping it along the floor as he spun it around to join them at the table.

“Come here often?” sailed out of his mouth without a moment's notice.

The sound of the chair already brought their attention, Cyclonus regarding him with a tired glance through drowsy optics and Galvatron looking oddly okay with seeing him again.

“Could ask the same of you runt” He mumbled back with all the pleasantries of someone seeing a friend.

Hot Rod leant on the table, elbow joints perching on the small spaces left between the empty plates and silently opened his mouth a few times, finally remembering just what he was doing and immediately seizing up with no idea what to say other than try to think of some sort of retort over ‘runt’. An oddity for him.

“You know this place only serves organic-safe substances right?” Galvatron eyed him, filling in the silence. Cyclonus gave a soft grunt of agreement.

“Soooooooooooo” Hot Rods immediate reaction was just to drag the one word out as his processor made a valiant effort to catch up, “What are you two doing here then?”

The question brought both their attention down on him again and he froze up a little mouth tightening as he endured the silence for a few seconds.  
“Because we’re organic… partially” Galvatron filled in the silence with what Hot Rod already re-remembered as soon as he’d spoken.

“Y...yeah” Hot Rod tried to sound less dim and went back to studying what was going on.

Galvatron nursed a tall pink drink in one hand, a red hue at the bottom of the glass.  
Cyclonus, on the other hand, looked like he was the one who’d been eating, the density of the plates was slightly heavier near him, his current drowsiness most likely a result of his eating.

“The humans thought it was kinda funny to see a lot of other races with these all-you-can-eat things...” Hot Rod tried to strike up an awkward conversation.

“It’s hardly a revolutionary concept” Galvatron was quite blunt, “But not accurate, they haven’t let us eat all we can, so I only had a drink… or two” he huffed.

Hot Rod struggled to bite back a smirk and drew a vaguely unimpressed glance.  
“Yeah but I don’t think they intended on serving people bigger than they are and able to eat their porcelain” he poked he semi-destroyed plate with a smirk.

“Still” Galvatron took a lazy sip from his glass, “Could do without the fuss of having to find a second one of these places just to get a decent meal before refusing us”

“Well… as long as you didn’t start eating their establishment I suppose they don’t have much to complain about” Hot Rod shrugged, “Though I suppose that explains the little side-eye I got when I walked in” he mumbled quietly at the end.

Galvatron gave him a nod and Cyclonus remained as still as ever, plunging it all back into silence again.

Hot Rod mulled over a few thoughts, staring at his ‘dining partners’.  
Where should he go from here? Would it be too direct and potentially destabilising to ask if they’d entertain the idea of a peace contract? Would they get bored with his presence and attack? Was there any other purpose to their visit here? He certainly hadn’t spotted any other ‘cons so maybe not but he still wondered.

He changed tactics and began to look around.  
Cyclonus remained stationary, his hoof-like feet on either side of Galvatron as they stretched the distance in front of him, little reaction or motion.  
Galvatron was at least keeping an eye on him, he wasn’t looking at Hot Rod directly, but Hot Rod could just sense Galvatron was keeping tabs on him.  
Weird frickin’ teeth, Hot Rod instead focused on the curled bits pointing out of Galvatron's lips, and mulled over how best to ask him how in the pits did he deal with those things jutting out his jaw at all times.

As his processor rolled over ideas his head rolled slightly in different directions, taking in this and that about the environment they were in. His communicator pinged and he quietly brought up his HUD to see what the message was.

It was from Arcee.  
“Dude, where are you? Moonracer and Blurr just bet each other to a race and it was greeeeeeeeat”

Well with no other conversation here, he could distract himself for a bit.

“At a market place, found a few pals. That sounds rad af though, I hope one of you got it recorded though”

There was still silence as neither of his ‘pals’ moved other than Galvatron stirring his drink with his straw, then eating the straw.

“Who the heck you out with?? We’re all on Cybertron, your sorry aft better not be getting into trouble or so help me I’ll never tell you if we recorded anything!”

Damn, couldn’t slip that one by her.

“It’s cool, I mean Blitzwing didn’t attack Cosmos and stuff y’know. Just in some backstreet all-you-can-eat place” He tried to play it off cool, mentally visualizing her glare at him running off for no real reason was enough to give him a spike of panic and he began scouring the restaurant for any bit of information he could. Escape routes, items, barriers etc.

“Who?” It was short and simple and flashed on his HUD almost immediately after he sent the other message, he could practically hear her growl through the text.

“A food coma’d Cyclonus and Galvatron” Trying to dodge another question would likely just make her find some way to jump to his location in record time just to find out what he was really doing.

The silence that followed made Hot Rod think that’s exactly what she’d done. Gone and taken some shuttle or hijacked the Space bridge and lock onto his transmission coordinates to get to him.

“You’re shitting me???” Quietly pinged on his screen after a nerve-wracking few moments.

“Nah man” Hot Rod’s natural instinct was to play it as cool as possible, not like he at all panicked over the thought of his impulsive, protective friend barging on in on this and a possible fight, no, not at all, “Just chillin’ they’ve been getting themselves banned from these all-you-can-eat places, none of them can handle their appetite and from the looks of it that’s just Cyclonus, Galvatron’s not eaten crap”

“Lol. For real? You’re safe at least, don’t think you’d make up a mouthful” Hot Rod couldn’t tell if she was joking out of being ‘relaxed’ again or trying to weasel more information about his location and safety from him.

“I’d at least be a glorious mouthful!” He argued back, “If either of them actually paid any attention to me”

“Are you sure you’re safe?” Quietly flashed across his screen in such a sudden, tone-breaking manner Hot Rod sank back in his seat.

“What’s eating you?” Hot Rod jumped at the sound, glancing around rapidly as if he didn’t already know where it came from.

“Nothing” He hissed quickly, his smile is no doubt awkward, “Just missed some fun stuff back on Cybertron is all” He covered when Galvatron did not stop staring at him.

“Hm, guess you’re enjoying the ceasefire while it lasts too” Galvatron shrugged, he put his drink to his lips and nibbled on the rim before seemingly remembering they’d already been told off for eating the cutlery and dishes and putting it down again.

“Oh… While it lasts?” Hot Rod sank back down again at the words, unsure of how to handle them.

“Yeah, Soundwave says that ceasefires haven’t lasted long before” Galvatron shrugged.

“Buh!” Hot Rod stuttered, the very nerve, was he implying the Autobots were at fault?, “Yeah! That’s always because Meg-” Hot Rod stopped him quickly, hardly a syllable of that name left him and Galvatron had whirled around to glare at him, eyes alight with intimidating energy and a gentle crackle at the side of his helm.

It was deathly silent for a few moments but Galvatron was the first to back down, his attention went straight back to his drink which he drained the entirety of in record time, putting the glass back down heavier than it should’ve been.

Hot Rod quietly looked at his feet, and decided he should probably reply to Arcee before she burst through the door.

“Yeah, they’re just eating weird organic crap, not doing much else” He sent back to her.

The response was immediate, Arcee no doubt worried after his pause.  
“Just organic junk? Nothing else? Gross”  
She was no doubt trying to play it off as being ‘chill’ too.

“Yeah, Cyclonus took a bite out of a plate, I’m looking at it right now” He shot back, looking at the plate again it almost seemed like an accidental bite.  
Accidental as in, he’s been in a battle with Cyclonus before and seen what it’s like when that living bear-trap of a mouth goes to take a chunk out of something.  
He could’ve probably taken the whole plate in a single bite.

“Sweet Solus Prime” Arcee threw back, “Sure they didn’t get kicked out of the last place for eating the actual restaurant? What can’t those fuckers push back, sheesh, no wonder they were never low on energy”

Hot Rod smirked, having had a similar thought when he first heard it too and thinking that it was likely the reason for the glare he got upon entering, though he can safely say he wasn’t going to eat this organic-food-only place out of business.

He glanced back over to the cook who was ignoring them and back to work in his visible-to-the-public kitchen, going up and down between cookers, prepping food for the other customers littered about the establishment.

One of the chef’s assistants went through a door to the back, no doubt to grab more ingredients, but it gave Hot Rod the view to spot something else.

A bucket, it was briefly visible as the door swung open from his angle, it was placed by a large cooling unit and underneath some pipes.  
It was also collecting some rather foul-looking ‘stuff’ that was dripping from one of the pipes. Some sort of soft-grey sludge that, depending on how long the bucket had been there, was probably congealing too.

“Yo, Arcee, there’s a bucket of some nasty looking crap in the back here, looks like Dinobot puke. 200 Shanix says Galvs won't be able to stomach it.

Immediate response.  
“You’re on. Record it. Transmit it, anything, I need to see.”

A big grin spread across Hot Rod's face.  
“S’cuse me a moment” he flashed the grin to his table as he pushed his chair back and made a beeline to the counter separating the kitchen.

Making little effort for an explanation beforehand Hot Rod hopped over the counter, prompting the chef to begin waving his hands and angrily yelling at him.

“Chill out bud” Hot Rod shooed the chef’s hands away from his face, “Doing you a favour here, let’s just say it’s, uuuhhh, like an apology for eating so much and a plate” He jabbed a thumb back at the table he just left, Galvatron watching him carefully.

The chef went to growl something else but Hot Rod ignored him and reached through the door for the bucket and took it.  
The smell was as vile as it looked and Hot Rod’s face contorted as he thrust the bucket out before him trying to avoid the rancid stench.

“We’re gonna get rid of this for you” He gagged, before, in the most desperate shuffle he’s ever done, Hot Rod hurried back to the table, eager to be rid of the stuff before the smell lingered any longer.

Without even thinking he managed to send another message back to Cybertron complaining of just how rancid this stuff was.

Hot Rod quickly shoved it in front of Galvatron, his motions stunted and awkward as he tried to move it as fast as possible while also risking as little spillage as possible.

“You seem to eat anything right? Can you like… eat that?” He waved a now free hand at the bucket while the other rubbed at his face in an attempt to play ‘casual’ and ‘totally not trying to physically rub the memory of that from my systems’.

Galvatron leaned forwards a little, peering into the bucket, before his face contorted as well.  
Hot Rod quietly set up his recording ability to catch this moment.

“Well, yeah, but why would I?” He gave a side-eye to Hot Rod, trying to get what was going on.

“You eat all sorts of weird things, we catch you eating rocks n’ stuff, just wanna see if you can is all” Hot Rod shrugged, trying to ‘blag it’ as he had no real way of trying to convince him to do it, “Like how good is that fuel tank of yours man”

Galvatron had an odd thoughtful, but distant look on his face for a few moments before ‘reconnecting to the moment’  
“Hook does say it’s impressive… as well as hideous”

He pursed his lips slightly before taking the bucket in his hands.  
Hot Rod could feel the disgusted excitement buzz through his systems.

Galvatron took another waft of the buckets awful smell, scrunching his face up a little before moving one hand to the base of the bucket and lifting it.

The moment the bucket went to his lips the cafe was abuzz, their activity had hardly gone unnoticed and other diners were exclaiming their disgust, the workers looked distressed, either that the buckets potentially health-code-violating existence was known or that it was being drunk.

Hot Rod slapped a hand to his mouth, feeling his own fuel tanks roll as the substance really made its thickness known as Galvatron sucked the sludge down.

A couple of customers got up and left, gagging as they went.

Still, Galvatron kept going, he kept going and made a show of the whole deal.  
As soon as the bucket was seemingly empty he crushed it in his hands, twisting the metal into a thick plait-like lump, little trickles of the remaining dregs of the unknown stuff ran across its surface as it leaked, but Galvatron didn’t care.  
Just as quickly as he crushed the bucket he stuck the remains in his mouth and crunched his way through it until nothing remained.

He licked his lips, frowned then hiccupped, the awful smell now bound to his breath, surely to linger for days.

“Ugh, oh, I… How, uh, how did that taste?” Hot Rod sounded like a tank-purge was imminent.

“As good as Shoulderstacks looks”

“Wait, what?” Hot Rod temporarily forgot all about heaving at the weird remark, wondering what Ultra Magnus had to do with anything, he even looked back at Cyclonus for an answer but the most he had done was sit up more so he could watch what was going on.

“Bad”

Hot Rod erupted into rapturous laughter, he didn’t even care he lost out on 200 Shanix at this point.

“Dude,” Hot Rod looked back at Cyclonus again, “You can kiss a mouth like that?” He uttered through tears.

Cyclonus looked back at him, still apparently in no mood to talk, but then he leaned over, elbows to the table, hand out he grabbed Galvatrons chin, pulling him forwards.

Then in defiance of anything, judging from the bucket’s quality, sanitary he locked lips with Galvatron, the kiss only lasting a few moments before Cyclonus reached up with both hands, holding Galvatron closer and keeping him in the kiss that progressed to being a touch more passionate than a quick defiant smooch.

Someone, somewhere in the restaurant finally heaved and Hot Rod was glad he kept recording even if his tanks weren’t.


End file.
